


The Letter of Goro Akechi to the Phantom Thieves

by Halberdier



Series: A Visit from Nyarlathotep [3]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Gen, Poetry, poem, poem fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28439481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halberdier/pseuds/Halberdier
Summary: On the night he was to betray himself, he took the ink. He lifted it to the paper and he said this.A poem fic about who really drove the plot of Persona 5.
Series: A Visit from Nyarlathotep [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083140
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

I know your works.  
I know you neither fear me nor hate me.  
I wish you either feared me or hated me.

So, because you are lukewarm  
I will spit this story out of my mouth  
When I am gone --

\-- all things willing, I will be gone --  
you will read this and  
understand.

If I must admit to being a puppet  
As you forced me to confront  
As I confronted myself

Then I will not let you believe  
that my master was the crusty stain  
who sired me into this pitiful existence

No, there was another, I recall now  
who bound my wrists and my ankles  
to a crossbar like some sort of hanged man

And I know he had bound you too,  
The unquestionable leader,  
And made us dance this tarantella.

How fitting, your alias, for this cosmic joke.


	2. Chapter 2

I was young. I was low. I was  
just as angry and just as smart  
as I am now. My reputation as

crime-solving savant might be  
manufactured, but I assure you  
that even then, just the same, it was

circumstances, not intellect, that  
betrayed me, belied the need to  
manufacture success. Necessity is

the mother of deception. And my  
mother was gone by then too. So  
deceit unlocked doors that society

had locked securely against me. So  
often did I wear the mask that before  
long, the mask turned itself to face

me. And the face it wore was my own face.  
And the face that wore it seemed always  
shifting beneath. And the thing that was

my face spoke words to me that no one  
could hear. And the thing that wore  
my face sounded sweetly sickening.

Soon, its speech solidified such sounds as these:


	3. Chapter 3

_Pity_ , it said as it looked me up and down.  
 _It is a pity what has happened to you._  
I reached out to strike it, and found I passed

right through it. "I don't want your pity."  
 _Of course you do. Pity gets you things._  
 _Pity gets you places. Pity gets you_

 _attention. You do want pity. You want_  
 _so very much pity._ I tried to spit in its  
face. My face. But my mouth had all

but dried up. _Pity_ , it said, _gets you power._  
"Power?" I breathed, barely breathing.  
 _Power,_ it said, _is theirs to give and to take._

 _Pity,_ it said, _will make them preen_  
 _with pride as they give you pieces._  
 _Purloin those pieces, pile them up,_

_and perhaps they will provide_   
_pylons upon which you will plant_   
_a parapet to prepare you to part_

_with your past and produce_   
_a new power as you purport_   
_yourself pope of your cult_

_of personality. Your persona. Your Persona._


End file.
